Come What May
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: Blaine has sacrificed so much for Kurt, it's only fair that he does the same. But why does it have to hurt so much? Future!Klaine Abused!Kurt Rated M for sexual abuse and language
1. Chapter 1

**Come What May**

Kurt Hummel couldn't have been happier. He lived in the city he adored, had the career he'd always dreamed of, and he was married to the most talented, beautiful man on the face of the earth. He sighed, looking out the window of their flat overlooking Manhattan, smiling as the sun hit his face.

He turned, looking back at Blaine, who was still sound asleep. His curls were a mess, sprawled out on the pillow beneath his head, his bare torso almost glowing in the early morning sun. He smiled again. Five years, they'd been married and he still loved him just as much as the first day he met him. He sighed, setting down his coffee cup and going to him. He slid over him, kissing his cheek.

"Bla-aine," he sang. Blaine groaned. "Wake up, baby." Blaine shook his head, hiding his face in the pillow.

"It's too early," he moaned. Kurt kissed his cheek and his ear.

"Come o-on," he whined. "You said you'd take me to breakfast before your audition today."

Blaine sighed and rolled over, leaving Kurt to lie on his chest. He smiled softly, holding his cheek. "You are _such_ a morning person," he cooed, eyes sleepy. Kurt nodded, kissing him.

"Breakfast," he chirped. Blaine giggled.

"Alright, alright," he said, sitting up. "Fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay," he grinned.

* * *

><p>Blaine showered and changed while Kurt checked the weather and got their coats. "Come <em>on<em>! I'm starving!" He demanded. Blaine shrugged into his coat, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck.

"Alright, alright!" He chuckled. "Such a diva…"

"Hey, I have to work at eleven and your audition's at noon. I'd like to spend some time with my husband before we have to spend months apart again."

"Alright," Blaine sighed, smiling. He pulled him into his arms, hugging him and resting his forehead against his. "You're luck you're so cute." Kurt smirked.

"So are you. Now let's _go_."

* * *

><p>Blaine looked up at the studio, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard. "I don't know if I can do this." He said, shaking his head. Kurt squeezed his shoulders.<p>

"If you don't get in there and show them _everything_ that you can do I'm making you cook dinner for a month," he snapped.

"Babe, I can't cook!" he exclaimed. Kurt smiled.

"That's the point. Now _go_!"

"Honey, this isn't some community theatre thing or an audition at Six Flags, this is Broadway. More importantly, this is 'Chicago,' I can't screw this up. You and I both know that-"

"…Being Billy Flynn is your dream role. Yes, I know, darling," he smiled. "Which is why you're going to fantastic and get this part. I know you will."

"Kurt, there are so many experienced actors that are going to be in there, and I've never gotten anything other than a chorus member, it-"

"Shh!" Kurt pressed his fingers to his lips. "Now," he kissed him, causing a blush to rise to Blaine's cheeks. "get in there and show them what you can do." Blaine nodded, still a little drunk from his kiss.

"I'll be next door, okay?" He pointed to the theatre beside them. "Maybe they'll be able to dance the steps I tell them to by opening night." He turned, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. Blaine looked back at the door in front of him, took another breath, and went inside.

* * *

><p><em>Three days later…<em>

"KURT!" Blaine sprinted toward him, grinning from ear-to-ear, dimples deep in his cheeks. He hoisted him up, spinning him around, laughing and smiling.

"Blaine, what?" Kurt exclaimed. Blaine paused, still holding him off the ground, still smiling.

"I DID IT!" He grinned. Kurt smiled back, his eyes bright.

"YOU DID?" They kissed, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Blaine spun him around some more, unbelievably elated. "We _have_ to celebrate."

Somehow, Blaine's smile grew. "Absolutely."

* * *

><p>Dinner didn't last long. Blaine blamed Kurt for that.<p>

He kept smiling softly, allowing his dimples to come out to play, leaning on his hand and babbling away in that beautiful, bell-like voice. Blaine was hanging on to his every word, entranced. His eyes glowed in the candlelight, sending sparks through those basins of blue. His skin was flawless and gorgeous as ever, the scarf draped so gracefully around his neck just _begging_ to reveal the glorious neck underneath it.

"Honey," Kurt said, barely brushing his fingers against the back of his hand. "Are you listening to me?"

Blaine's heart raced at the touch of his skin. "Yes…of course," he said, shaking his head. "Those ungrateful little heathens don't appreciate being pushed to their limits so they know what they can do."

"Right, and…" He continued on, not noticing the dreamy, blissful look on Blaine's face.

His appetite had changed drastically. The filet the waiter placed in front of him had no chance in holding his interest with this beautiful creature in front of him.

"Aren't you hungry?" Kurt asked, mid-bite. Blaine shook his head, coming back to himself.

"Yeah, sorry," he cut through the steak, blushing. "I'm, um, a little distracted."

It took Kurt a moment, but he understood. He blushed, staring down at the pasta. "So…?"

Blaine leaned forward, his eyes intense, wetting his lips. "All I've been able to think about since we got here is what I'm going to do to you when I get you home."

Kurt's eyes were wide, his cheeks a deep magenta. "Should I ask for the check and a to-go box?"

Blaine tossed money on the table and stood, grabbing Kurt's coat and his hand. "Forget the box, we'll order Chinese later."

* * *

><p>Coats and shoes hit the floor. Vests fluttered to the ground and Kurt's neck was finally freed from it's scarf –ed prison. Blaine attacked it, suckling on that soft, <em>sweet<em> porcelain. Kurt dragged his hands down Blaine's back, almost trying to rip through his dress shirt. Blaine sighed, breaking away from Kurt's neck.

Kurt pushed him back on the bed, quickly falling on top of him and popping the buttons open on his shirt. He kissed up his stomach, nudging his tie away with his nose when he reached it. He grabbed the knot when he reached his lips, tugging him up, his eyes and lips absolutely hungry for him.

Blaine's lungs tried to keep up with his thundering heart, so unbearably turned on by the dominance Kurt showed. He shrugged out of his shirt, moving to take the tie from Kurt's hand.

"Leave it on," he growled. Blaine let go, obeying instantly. Kurt kept the silk in his hand, still tugging as he kissed him passionately, bringing a blush to his own cheeks. He allowed Blaine to take off his sweater, leaving his skin bare. He himself was toying with Blaine's sides, touching his ribs with just the brush of his fingertips.

"Kurt," he gasped, leaning his head back. Kurt brushed his lips against his Adam's Apple, making him shiver, his tie still wrapped around his hand. The dark-haired man ran his fingers through his thick hair, barely trailing his hands down his back before moving to his chest.

Kurt shuddered when Blaine's hands slid inside his pants, cupping his cheeks, groping desperately. His breath hitched, connecting their lips again. "_Blaine_!"

Soon they were naked and tangled together, gasping, sweating, connected. Blaine managed to open his eyes, looking directly into Kurt's, chests heaving. He kissed him, holding the side of his beautiful face, stifling whimpers and moans from the both of them.

They broke apart, foreheads pressed together, breaths hot on each other's faces. Blaine laced his fingers in Kurt's, never looking away from him. Faster and faster, heat building, stifling, screams getting louder and louder and then-

Everything was still. They each gasped for air, relaxing, a blissful calm settling over them. They kissed, soft and lazy, hands still held tight.

"I love you," Blaine whispered. Kurt leaned up and kissed him again.

"I love you too."

* * *

><p><em>Two Months Later…<em>

Kurt bobbed into the theatre, smiling with the full intent of surprising his husband. He'd been done with his choreography project next door and was left with all the time in the world to see him. He'd been here nearly every day for the past two weeks, watching Blaine put the directors and even the other cast members under that charming spell of his as he performed spectacularly.

Speaking of the director…

He made Kurt uncomfortable. He was nearly always staring at him, and if they passed in a hall or some enclosed space he always managed to be too close. His name was Roland Broussard, a highly successful, highly esteemed director with a lot of money and even more connections.

"He wants you," a friend of Kurt's, Elizabeth said. She'd won the lovely part of the Hunyak in this production, and was doing quite well. Her love of Patti LuPone and designer clothing had caught Kurt's attention, and they'd hit it off quite well.

"Oh, please," he scoffed. "He knows good and well that I'm married."

She snorted, taking a long swig of water. "Honey, he's Roland Broussard, and he _always_ gets what he wants because he feels like he's entitled to it." Kurt pursed his lips, shaking his head.

"Well, he's not getting me, that's for sure. He's not even cute," he scowled. She laughed.

"Amen!" She toasted the air.

"And isn't he like, forty something?" He asked. She nodded. "Great, and he's twice my age."

"Excuse me, Mr., eh, Hummel, is it?" Kurt turned.

"Speak of the devil," Liz mumbled.

"It's Anderson, actually," Kurt corrected, expression blank. Roland smiled.

"Yes, I'm sorry, could I speak to you for a moment?" Kurt glanced back at Liz, who shrugged.

"Certainly," Kurt said, following him, giving Liz one more look before he disappeared around the corner.

He never had a chance.

He was slammed against the wall, unfamiliar lips pressed over his mouth, strong hands holding him down and keeping him still. He yanked away from the assault, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes from the violation. He looked up at Roland, shaking a little, horrified.

"Get away from me!" He exclaimed, trying to squirm away from him.

"Stop," Roland hissed, mouth beside his ear, holding him tighter.

"Ow," Kurt breathed, turning his head away again.

"Listen to me, _listen_," he slammed him against the wall once more, making him submit. "Let's think a moment. I'm _Roland Broussard_. I can give you whatever you could possibly want. All you have to do is give me you."

"I-I'm married," he choked, helpless. Roland grinned.

"That's never stopped anyone before."

"No!" Kurt snapped, trying to be braver than he felt. "I don't want anything from you. Let me go!" Roland scowled, pressing against him.

"You want to play it that way?" He snarled. "Fine. You either let this happen, or I fire your husband." The air left Kurt's lungs, making him shake. "And this is his _dream_, isn't it? He's wanted this since he was just a kid, hasn't he? I can take that all away and make sure he can _never_ get a job in this town ever again. He'll barely be able to bus tables at a dinner theatre when I'm through with him."

Kurt shut his eyes. This meant so much to Blaine. This was his dream. Blaine had already sacrificed so much for him. Kurt had watched as one of his own dreams came true and Blaine had stepped back from his own. He'd done so much… He couldn't imagine taking this away from him. He wouldn't be able to stand the look on his face if this was all snatched away from him. He wouldn't be able to take how upset he would be, how depressed…especially if he could've prevented it. He didn't have a choice.

"Okay."

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING: ****This is rated M for a reason, guys. Sexual abuse ahead. Ye be warned.**

**Come What May**

Roland grinned. He moved to kiss him; Kurt dodged him.

"No, no, don't kiss me," he breathed, tears in his eyes. "Anything else just…just don't kiss me."

He'd already had a very important kiss stolen from Blaine, he wasn't about to have another one.

"In here," Roland whispered, shoving him toward a door. He yanked it open, pushing him inside the practice room.

Kurt stared at him, breathing hard. "I do this, and you leave Blaine alone?" He squeaked, trying to sound brave. _Courage,_ he told himself. _Remember?_ Roland nodded.

"As long as you don't tell him what we're going, I give you my word."

"Okay."

Kurt barely got the word out before he was tossed on a coffee table, face down. Roland kissed his neck and tore off his clothes, touching him everywhere. Kurt could only let him, an awful, wretched feeling welling inside of him and growing as each piece of clothing was removed. He tried to close his eyes and pretend that Blaine was the one doing this.

He couldn't. These hands were rough. They pinched and prodded none too gently, making the tears come easier. "Please, gently. You'll leave bruises," he whispered. Roland paid no heed. If anything he pressed and groped harder, making Kurt whimper. He leaned his face on the table, refusing to cry in front of this monster. He would fight it as hard as he could to make sure that didn't happen. God, it was hard not to... Roland bit him, hard, making him cry out.

"Make all the noise you want," he grunted. "The room's soundproof."

Kurt swallowed a sob, trying to breathe. His breath hitched when his pants were pulled down, exposing him to this man. He had no shield now, nothing to hide him from this monster as he ravaged him. "God, you're so _soft_," Roland grunted. Kurt shut his eyes, biting his lip, tears stagnant in his eyes.

He squeezed the edge of the table, thinking about Blaine as much as he could. His eyes, his face, his lips, his voice his-

"AHHHH!" He screamed, pain rupturing through his body. "NO! NO, PLEASE, NO, CAN'T YOU-? MMMNNN!"

"I can't wait," Roland grunted, "I can't wait. Has to be now." He drove his hips forward, making Kurt scream again.

He kept his eyes closed as the man moved, sending pulsating agony through his shaking body.

_This is for Blaine, this is for Blaine, this is for Blaine…_ He told himself, locking the sobs away, knowing that this would _kill_ Blaine if he ever found out. His husband, who trusted him and loved him so much…

"Blaine," he breathed, trying not to let Roland hear. He didn't notice. He was far too busy ripping him apart. Kurt was sure he was bleeding, there was no way he couldn't be, and he was in _so_, _much, pain_.

All he wanted was for it to stop. He wanted this stranger's voice out of his ears, he wanted his hands to stop touching him wherever he pleases. He wanted that disgusting feeling to go away. And more than anything he wanted his husband, his love, his Blaine to hold him and save him from this nightmare. "Blaine!"

"Blaine's not here," Roland hissed, grabbing a handful of his hair. "_Now shut the fuck up!_"

Kurt tried to breathe through it. It was all he could do. He felt something being ripped away from him, something important. He tried to swallow his tears, tried not to make a sound and suppressed it all as much as he could, and that hurt just as bad as Roland drilled into him without any sort of preparation.

Then it was over. Roland shuddered, squeezing Kurt's shoulders so hard his nails bit into his skin.

Kurt collapsed on the table, shaking his head, trembling from head to toe. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry…"

Roland was grinning as he pulled out of him and refastened his trousers. "That's what a real man feels like," he said smugly, reaching for the doorknob. "Remember that the next time Blaine's fucking you." And he was gone.

Kurt broke. He cried, hard, feeling blood and bodily fluids that weren't his own drip down his leg. He knew there would be bruises, ones that he would have to cover up with makeup in case Blaine saw.

Blaine…Blaine… "BLAINE!" Kurt screamed, burying his face in his hands, so utterly ashamed. He'd betrayed him, he betrayed the man he loved more than anything else in the whole world. God, how was he supposed to look at him now, knowing that another man had had him, had touched him had…had _fucked_ him.

"_Remember that the next time Blaine's fucking you._" But that was the problem. Blaine never "fucked" him. Blaine…Blaine made love to him. He cried harder, hand over his heart.

After a few moments he put his clothes back on, trembling, crying. Once he stood, dressed and seemingly unharmed he headed for the door.

He made it about halfway across the room before he found himself puking in a trashcan.

* * *

><p>"What happened?" Liz asked, noting his distressful look.<p>

"Oh, he just wanted to tell me how well Blaine was doing," he assured. "Then I got sick. We ordered Thai food for lunch, and I guess it didn't sit well."

She didn't buy it, not for a second, but she went along with it. "Oh, honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go home," he said, still trying to smile and heading for the door.

"Wait, what about Blaine?" She asked.

Kurt hid the invisible punch he felt when she said his name, and he could only imagine what would happen when he actually _saw_ him. "Um, I'll see him at home. I really don't want to get everyone sick around here. I should go."

Before Liz could stop him, he was gone.

* * *

><p>Kurt rushed to his and Blaine's bathroom, his stomach heaving once again. He wretched hard, his muscles clenching hard. His throat burned and his stomach ached with the forced trauma, but he deserved it. He deserved every ounce of pain that came with doing what he'd done.<p>

Once he stopped puking he dove in the shower, turning the water on as hot as it would go and scrubbing as hard as he could. He could still feel the fluids seeping from him but… no matter how hard he tried he…he couldn't get it all out.

He cried, using far too much soap of every kind, trying not to rub his skin raw. He knew he couldn't get him off. He would probably feel this dirty for the rest of his life and he absolutely hated it. He loathed it…and he loathed himself.

He got out of the shower, drying and looking himself over. He was bruised in places he shouldn't be bruised, his muscles aching. There were claw marks on his back and a bite mark on the back of his neck.

He started to cry again, looking at the mutilations he'd received for his infidelity. He grabbed his cover up and his moisturizer, covering up both the tiny crescents from Roland's nails and the bite mark. He left it flawless; you couldn't even tell that something had been there.

He moisturized his face as usual, though his tears kept interfering and he eventually gave up. He went into their bedroom, feeling like he had no right to be there.

He collapsed on his side of the bed, curled in a ball, crying so hard he thought his ribs would crack. His tears leaked from swollen eyes, looking at Blaine's pillow. He reached for it, hugging it close to his chest, sobbing into it. He took a deep breath, taking in Blaine's smell, realizing this was the closest thing to Blaine he would get to say this to.

"I'm sorry, Blaine," he sobbed, voice muffled. "I'm so sorry. Please, please forgive me…I didn't want to do it, I didn't. All I wanted was you and, and… _God, Blaine, it hurt so much_!" He continued to sob into the pillow, pouring out his heart and soul and wishing it had arms to hold him with.

* * *

><p>Blaine walked through the door into their dark apartment, tired from all the rehearsing, wanting nothing else than to snuggle up to his husband and sleep. He needed to check on him first. Liz had told him he was ill and he was worried about him.<p>

He found his angel fast asleep on their bed, wearing a shirt that was too big and a pair of sweats. He looked absolutely adorable, face buried in his pillow, clutching it tight. He felt his forehead, finding no fever. He smiled softly, shaking Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt," he cooed, "Kurt, wake up, baby." He opened his eyes, blinking slowly.

Kurt's heart was ripped in half once again. His lips trembled and tears welled in his eyes again.

"Hey, hey," Blaine soothed, sitting beside him. "What's wrong?" Kurt couldn't answer him. He opened his mouth, trying to form the words to speak. All that came out was a few whimpers and breathy sounds. "Darling…" Blaine scooped him into his lap, rocking him gently. Kurt started to cry, wanting to refuse the comfort Blaine was giving him, but had no strength to.

"You really don't feel good, do you?" He asked. Kurt shook his head, still sobbing. "Shh, shh…" He soothed, rocking him gently, kissing his temple. "It'll be alright, sweetheart. Can I get you something? Medicine, or-?"

"No," Kurt choked, squeezing him tighter. "Don't let go. J-just stay here."

Blaine nuzzled his face into his neck, kissing his cheek and rubbing his back, just wanting Kurt to be better.

Kurt was drowning in guilt, wanting to jump out of a window and kill himself. But at least he wouldn't have to do it again. It was over. Roland would never touch him again and Blaine would never know.

If only that were true…

-Thank you, more soon. And to all of those that reviewed, I thank you as well!-


	3. Chapter 3

**Come What May**

Kurt was "better" after a day or two, able to fake his way through his smiles and look Blaine in the eye without the guilt choking him. He could barely kiss him back, but he had to. He had to get past this. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't. He kept the bruises and tiny cuts covered and hidden away from him, using scarves, sweaters and makeup to do so.

He waited awhile before he went back to the theatre to tell Blaine hi, watch him perform and just be near him. Liz stayed with him most of the time, laughing, talking, making him believe that everything was going to be okay.

She and Blaine were on stage for "All I Care About" when Roland came up behind him, clamping one hand over his mouth and the other on his groin. He whimpered, tensing and trying not to tremble. "Come here," the director hissed, his stubble digging into his neck. He guided him back into his office, feeling his heart start to pound and his body tremble.

He stared at him when he was shoved in, trying to stay strong. "What do you want?" He asked, voice steady. "I did what you wanted. We're done!"

Roland rushed forward, grabbing his neck, slamming him against the wall. He squeezed his throat, face red and just a breath from his.

"You're done when I _say_ we're done," he growled, squeezing tighter. "You talk to me like that again and I'll beat the shit out of you _and_ fire that bitch of yours."

Roland grabbed his shirt, tearing it open, sending a few buttons flying. He spun him around, slamming him against the wall. "Now, you take this like a good boy and we won't have any problems, alright?"

_No, no, he'll notice if you do that!_ He was already about to cry. _No, not again. Please, I barely lived through the last time. _

Roland spun him around, slamming him against the brick.

"Take the rest off yourself," he commanded.

"B-bu-"

"_Do it_!" He growled. Kurt jumped, his trembling little hands going to the button on his pants. No, no why did he have to do this again? Once was enough…

He stripped himself naked in front of this man who refused to take an article of clothing off, furthering Kurt's humiliation. "On your knees, now," he snapped. The younger man allowed a sob past his lips as he fell, hanging his head.

Roland grabbed his hair, forcing his head back. "Now, it's up to you how bad it hurts this time, got it?" Tears pricked the corners of Kurt's eyes as he nodded. "Good. Open your mouth." Kurt hesitated. Roland slapped him. "_Open it_!" He squeezed the joints of his jaw, _making_ him.

Kurt was choking, trying to open his throat so he wouldn't gag and take some sort of control of the situation. But Roland held his hair in a vice, thrusting so fast Kurt almost threw up. He whimpered, mostly at the awful taste, and at what he was doing.

_Oh, Blaine, what am I doing to us_? He wondered. Tears slid down his cheeks; he couldn't help it.

"Such a good little mouth you have," he grinned, slapping him again. "Yeah, such a good, good boy…"

It seemed to carry on forever before the porcelain skinned boy was allowed to breathe properly again, choking on sobs, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

"Don't think you'll get off that easy." He hauled him up by his hair, tossing him against the wall again.

Kurt sobbed aloud when he felt fingers inside of him, trying to open him up. He winced and tensed away, trying to get him out of him. "Stop it," he begged softly. "Stop it, please."

"Fine," Roland growled, pressing against him. Kurt whimpered, turning his face away. He forced his mouth open again, shoving the scarf he was wearing down his throat as a makeshift gag. "You want it to hurt? I'll let it hurt."

Kurt's scream was muffled, as were the ones that followed. He couldn't stop himself from crying this time, it hurt too much.

He was slammed against the wall over and over again, arms huddled to his chest, eyes closed, trying to remember what Blaine's embrace felt like. It wasn't like this, hard, cold, painful. Blaine was soft, warm and so, so gentle.

He lost all strength in his legs, having to totally rely on the wall to support him. Roland had his hair again, proving his power over him.

Kurt cried, trying so hard to ignore the feeling of having this man _inside_ him. He shuddered against the wall, trying not to say Blaine's name, saying it to _beg_ him to forgive him for what he was doing.

"Blaine…" He moaned into the gag, sobbing a little.

"Yeah, you like it, don't you?" He grunted, his hand slipping around to his front, grasping his member.

Kurt squealed, earning him a hard slap on his backside. "_Shh,_" he hissed, licking his ear. "Shut the fuck up or I'll make it worse."

He threw him to the floor, forcing his legs apart and his wrists down. Kurt trembled, looking away from him. He didn't want to look at him while he did this. No, no…all he wanted was his husband's arms.

It ended just like the first time. Roland stood, fastened his pants and left with a smirk. Kurt sobbed, got dressed, threw up and walked out.

Liz was waiting right there in her costume, looking worried and horrified. "What's wrong?" He said, voice steady.

"I…I heard," she whispered, unable to talk any louder. His eyes grew, skin paling.

"What," he breathed, swallowing hard. "What did you hear?"

"I, I heard you crying." He stared at her, shaking his head.

"Please, don't tell Blaine," he begged. "Please, if I tell him then…the Roland will fire him, please." She stared at him, at the swelling in his eyes, at how wounded and scared he was, and how utterly desperate he was to keep this a secret. "Liz, _please_."

"Okay, okay," she surrendered. "I won't tell."

"Thank you." He was on the verge of tears.

"Hey, baby," Blaine came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Kurt winced very softly before smiling. He turned, hugging him tight.

"Hi, Blaine."

"Where'd you disappear to?" He asked curiously.

"Oh, just wandering," he shrugged. Liz tried to keep her expression blank, tried to keep her own emotions out of this. But she knew how much agony Kurt was in. She understood what this was doing to him and how badly it hurt. But she smiled.

"Let's go get dinner," Blaine grinned.

"Okay," Kurt grinned, subtly dodging Blaine's kiss and letting it land on his cheek.

He gave his friend another look before they left, showing her just how much pain he was in, and there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

><p><em>Three weeks later…<em>

It happened again, and again, and again, and again…

Kurt was used, beaten and practically raped nearly every day. He started to shut himself down. He got quieter, more reserved. He barely let Blaine look at him, let alone touch him. He stopped eating, he hardly slept, he dressed in long-sleeved sweaters and scarves to hide the bruises and bite marks.

Once, he was lying down to go to sleep, staying as far away from Blaine as he could, facing the other way, when Blaine wrapped his arm around his chest.

Kurt took a deep breath, tensing. Blaine nuzzled his nose in Kurt's hair and neck, kissing him softly. Kurt jerked away.

"What are you doing?" He snapped.

"Um, making love to my husband," he said playfully, kissing his ear. Kurt shut his eyes, feeling Roland's hands on him, heard his voice in his ear. He shuddered and pulled away.

"Not tonight, Blaine, I'm really tired." He mumbled. Blaine frowned, settling his arm around him and giving his neck one more kiss. "Blaine, I said no!" He snapped, jerking away again.

Blaine retracted as if Kurt had burned him, looking hurt. He stared at the back of his head, not understanding what he'd done wrong. This was the first night in a long time where he and Kurt were awake and able to be around each other for a night. And Kurt didn't…oh what did he do?

What Blaine didn't see was the river of tears falling rapidly from his husbands eyes.

_He can't touch me. I'm too dirty for him to touch. Oh no, no, he can't touch me!_

He cried for hours, cried until Blaine rolled over in his sleep, absently wrapping his arm around him. Kurt sobbed once, leaning back into his warmth.

"I wish I could tell you…" he breathed. "I love you, Blaine, I love you so much…" He laced his fingers in his, slowly drifting off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Come What May**

"Do you think he's cheating on me?" Blaine asked, eyes vulnerable and so very sad.

"What?" Liz blanched. "Are you crazy?"

Blaine looked at his hands, a lump throbbing in his throat. "He…he won't let me kiss him, or touch him. He gets so mad if I try. I tried to get in the shower with him yesterday and he acted like I'd made the most perverted suggestion I could ever make. Hell, we haven't been intimate in I don't know how long. He keeps staying late at the studio but I called them yesterday and the production's been done for two weeks! I'm just…I'm just scared he's found someone else. Someone better."

"Blaine, listen to me," Liz said firmly, waiting for him to meet her eyes. "Kurt loves you more than you will _ever_ know. He would _never_,_ ever_ do something like that to you. You're his whole world. He talks about you nonstop, I mean…God, Blaine, you mean the world to him. There's no one else, there can't be."

"Are you sure?" He asked softly. She nodded.

"I'm positive."

She wasn't lying. He did mean absolutely _everything_ to him. He was the whole reason he was letting Roland…

She'd been there afterward every time. She let him cry, comforted him, watched him loathe himself for what he was doing.

"He doesn't deserve this," he had sobbed. "He doesn't deserve what I'm doing to him…wh-what I'm doing to us. Oh God, Liz, I hate myself so much!"

"Shh," she'd soothed, "hey, hey, it's alright. It's not like you're doing this because you want to. It's not your fault Kurt, shh…" He cried into his hands, refusing to let her hold him. "Kurt, let me go to the police, _please_."

"NO!" He snapped up, his swollen eyes wild and begging. "No, no, you can't tell. If you tell Blaine'll be fired and-"

"Kurt, it's too late in the game for him to be fired. There's no way-"

"Then he'll never get another job again. I've had my big break, and this is Blaine's. I won't let anything jeopardize that. I won't," he said firmly. He succumbed to his tears again, holding his knees to his chest, saying Blaine's name over and over again in a mantra that might make him feel better. But, then again, it's always worse before it gets better.

She patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Blaine, Kurt's crazy about you," she smiled and walked to her dressing room.

Blaine nodded and stood, reassured that it was alright, that everything was going to be okay. He wanted to see Kurt now, right now, and tell him that he was sorry for thinking such things. He wanted to ask him what was wrong and what he could do to help fix it instead of sitting and stewing about what might be.

He walked down the hall toward Roland's office with the intent of asking if he could go home early. He missed his husband.

* * *

><p>"Gently, please!" Kurt cried. Roland had his arm twisted behind his back, mauling his neck with his teeth and lips, giving the boy a deep, painful hickey. "Ow…please, please…" He begged, tears in his eyes already.<p>

The older man was tearing Kurt's belt off, shoving his hands in his pants to play with what wasn't his. Kurt gasped and whimpered, squealing when he squeezed too hard. "Yeah, there's a good boy," he growled. "Say my name," he demanded.

"No," Kurt choked, shaking his head. "I told you, I won't do it." He twisted his arm harder, mouth on his ear. Kurt sobbed once in pain.

"Do it or I'll snap your fucking arm right in half." He shook his head again.

"Do it, then, I won't say it. I won't." Roland squeezed him again, hard enough to bruise him.

"AH! Mmmnn," he was trying so hard not to cry. Roland gave up, kissing his neck again, keeping his hand in Kurt's pants despite the protests. Kurt tried to focus on something in the room, something to look at to keep his mind just a little away from this.

He looked at the door, begging –even if it wasn't what he wanted- for Blaine to come in the room and carry him away from this awful place. He wanted him to take him home where he would be warm and safe. Not here where everything was cold and hard and hurt. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine what that would be like, what it would be like if Blaine came in right now and saved him.

The door opened.

* * *

><p>Blaine froze, looking at the scene before him.<p>

Kurt's head was thrown back, shirt torn open, gasping as Roland fondled him. Roland was kissing his neck and obviously touching… touching something that wasn't his.

It was like he'd been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer. Kurt was…was with another man. His _director_ of all people. His Kurt, his husband, his love, his whole world…was cheating on him. He shook his head a little, trying to deny what he was seeing.

It took a moment for the two of them to notice he was standing there. Kurt's eyes were wide, body paling, horrified.

"Blaine," he squeaked. Roland looked up, grinning.

He ran.

* * *

><p>Kurt jerked away from the older man, hurtling toward the door. "BLAINE!" He yelled. Roland grabbed his injured arm, slamming him against the wall.<p>

"Don't you tell him what's really going on here," he warned. "Don't you say a fucking word. I'll kill him if you do. And then I'll kill you; I swear to God I will. Do you understand me?" He growled.

Kurt's knees trembled. He was about to lose what he loved, what he needed most in the world. He shook his head, staring at him with his wide, tear-filled eyes.

"No, no, please," he begged. "Please…"

He grabbed his throat, slamming him again. "_You think I'm fucking joking?_"

"No, no, no," he whimpered. "I'll do it, I'll do it." What choice did he have?

He bolted out the door, in agonizing pain. Now his heart was breaking too.

He rounded the corner and found himself looking at Blaine's back. His shoulders were shaking, one hand over his eyes. God, he was crying.

"Blaine," he whispered. He spun around, no longer sad but horribly angry.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?" He screamed. "HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?"

"Blaine, please," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

"SORRY?" He asked skeptically. He stalked forward, getting in his face. "I gave you _everything_ I had, Kurt. _Everything! _And you threw it away like it was NOTHING! I loved you with all my heart and you just…you just broke it."

Kurt's lips were trembling, eyes filled with tears. This only angered Blaine further.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO BE UPSET ABOUT?" He slapped him, hard. Kurt whimpered a little, but took it. He deserved it. "Why? Why did you do this? Is, is he better in bed than I am? Is that it? Am I not satisfying you?" He screamed.

"No," Kurt said softly, shaking his head.

"THEN WHY?" He bellowed. The other boy simply flinched. Blaine shook his head. "I want you out. I want you gone by tonight. Get your things out and leave. I don't ever want to see you again." The agony welling inside him was almost unbearable.

"Okay," he whispered, so beaten.

"'OKAY?' THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THIS? 'OKAY?' OUR FUCKING MARRIAGE HAS COME TO A SCREECHING HALT, AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT IT IS OKAY!" He slapped him again, the other cheek this time. Once again, Kurt took it. Blaine shook his head.

"I hope you and Roland are happy." He turned and stalked away, sobbing as he went.

When he couldn't see him anymore, the battered porcelain boy fell to his knees, crying so hard his chest hurt. Liz rushed forward from out of nowhere, her hands on his shoulders.

"Kurt, you go tell him what's going on right now!" She commanded. He shook his head.

"N-no, no, I c-can't!" He wailed. "I can't he, he said he'd kill us!" She just stared at him, horrified.

"Kurt, you don't deserve to lose him too. He's forced himself on you over and over again and now he's making you lose your husband too? Kurt, if Blaine's gone it'll kill you," she said, trying desperately to meet his eyes.

"I can't, I can't," he sobbed. His cheeks were hot from where Blaine hit him, the last time he'd ever touch him.

He collapsed over his knees, crying so hard it felt like his heart would burst. It was already bleeding and ragged from the hole Blaine had left inside him. The same thought kept playing over and over in his head.

_He's gone, he's gone, he's gone, he's gone…_

"I have to go," he choked. "If I don't Roland'll think I told." He stood on his jelly-like knees, trembling from head to toe.

He walked away, his steps unsteady, tears on his face.

She waited until he was gone before she took off down the hall. She wasn't going to let this happen. Kurt might not be allowed to tell Blaine, but there was no rule that said she couldn't.

* * *

><p>"He's gone," Kurt said, head bowed. "I didn't tell." Roland grinned.<p>

"Good," he said. He reached out, grabbing his shirt and yanking him toward him. "Finish."

"Wh-what?" He whimpered, still shaking like a bird. Roland grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing his lips on his. Kurt fought against him.

_No, no, no!_

"I said _finish_," he snarled, pulling his hair again. He closed his eyes. Once again, what choice did he have?"

* * *

><p>Blaine punched every wall and door that he could reach when he got home. It took everything he had not to grab their wedding photo and chuck it across the room. He ripped the gold band from his finger, chucking it somewhere unknown. He cried and screamed, his heart completely broken. He finally fell to his knees in front of the couch, burying his face in the cushions, sobbing so hard. What had he done wrong? What did he do to make Kurt stray away from him?<p>

He scowled when someone knocked at the door. _Go away!_ He screamed silently. _I don't want to see you! Leave me ALONE!_

He ripped the door open. "WHAT?" But he was looking at Liz. He sighed. "Liz, this isn't a good time-"

"There's something you need to know."

* * *

><p>Kurt was tied to the bars between the cushions of this couch. His wrists ached and blistered as he was jostled by Roland's weight. His tie was being used to gag him again. His mouth was what got him in this position.<p>

"Say my name," Roland had said a few minutes ago while kissing his neck and chest with his awful lips.

"No," Kurt said simply.

"Say-"

"Your not that good, don't flatter yourself," he growled. "You're not even half the man that Blaine is. You're nothing. You couldn't satisfy a hamster if you wanted to."

That's when he was beaten. Roland was merciless as he hit him over and over again, kicking his ribs, backhanding his face.

He threw him on the couch, tying his arms and shoving his tie in his mouth. He cried and shuddered, trying to get away from him.

Now he was here, bruised and weak, sobbing and writhing to free his hands. Finally one of his hands fell but Roland held it quickly, still driving into his body with awful force. Kurt closed his eyes, crying hard, screaming Blaine's name into the gag, just wanting him.

"Now who's satisfied?" Roland grunted.

Kurt was bleeding again, dripping with fluids. This felt like it'd been going on for hours, and for all he knew it was.

He cried so hard, trembling. "_BLAAAAINE!" _

The door opened again.

* * *

><p>"…So, you have to understand, he didn't want to do this, Roland made him. He made him tell you he was cheating on you too. He threatened to kill you. He said he'd kill Kurt too and while I'm sitting here telling you all of this he's raping him…he's doing it right now."<p>

Blaine was tinged green, his stomach rolling over and over again. His Kurt, his darling, his husband, his love, his baby, his angel was… "No," he breathed. He stood, grabbing his keys and bolting for the door.

_I'm coming, Kurt. I'm coming baby, I'm coming_.

* * *

><p>Blaine's stomach rolled so hard he thought he may puke. There was Kurt, <em>his<em> Kurt, tied up, crying, shaking, scared, and bleeding. And there was Roland, hurting him, violating him, making him bleed.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY HUSBAND!" He bellowed. Roland jumped. Kurt shut his eyes, head falling back in relief, whimpering and shaking so hard.

Roland jumped away, scared. Blaine glared at him, fists clenched, ready to beat the shit out of him if that's what it came to.

Kurt used his free hand to cover himself, so ashamed. Blaine's heart ached as he looked him over, at the cuts and the and the bruises and the bites and... He was distracted enough for Roland to zip past him and leave the room.

He didn't care. He ran to Kurt, one hand on his face, the other hastily untying his wrist. "Shh, shh, it's okay, baby. It's okay. Oh, god, Kurt I'm so sorry. I didn't…Oh god." He gently tugged the tie from his lips, allowing him to cry freely.

"Blaine," he gulped. "I-I'm sorry!"

"Stop, stop it, it's not your fault." He gathered him up in his arms, holding his naked little body as tightly he could. "Oh, Kurt, why didn't you tell me baby?"

He could only cry, clinging to Blaine for dear life, praying that this wasn't a dream. He was saved, he was hurt, but Blaine would make everything better. He knew he would.


	5. Chapter 5

**Come What May**

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Kurt sobbed brokenly. Blaine winced, holding his trembling angel. Kurt cried into his neck, so ashamed.

"No, Kurt, it's not your fault, baby. I'm not mad, it's okay. It's okay. Shh…" The porcelain boy refused to believe him, crying harder. "Shh, I've got you, baby, I've got you."

"F-forgive me, Blaine," he begged. "Please, I'm so sorry for ch-"

"Stop it," he said, shaking his head, eyes pained. He gently kissed his cheek, making Kurt flinch so slightly he didn't notice. "Don't do that, honey. It's _not your fault_. Okay? _God_, Kurt, why didn't you tell me?"

"I-I couldn't," he shivered. "I couldn't…" Blaine held him for awhile, rocking him, his own sobs locked in his chest.

"Kurt, baby, where are your clothes?" He asked softly. Kurt choked on his sob, closing his eyes and pointing to the mangled pile of fabric on the floor. Blaine's heart took another jab. "Oh, Kurt…" He reached out, taking Kurt's outstretched hand and bringing it to his lips, being careful not to touch the chaffed burn and blisters on his wrist. "Shh…okay, okay, I'll go get you some clothes out of my dressing room, alright?"

"Don't leave me!" He cried, his bright, innocent eyes begging. "Please, don't go."

"Hey, hey," Blaine held his cheek, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to get you some clothes so you're…so you don't have to feel like this, Kurt." Vulnerable, weak…and naked. Being like this only made Kurt feel even more shamed, but the last thing he wanted was for Blaine to leave him.

Blaine's heart was aching again as he looked at his husband's shining, guilt-ridden, swollen eyes as they looked up at him, his lips trembling. Out of instinct, he reached out and held his marble-like cheeks, wiping away tears from the raw skin. "Please." The softest whisper. Blaine hugged his tight, gently kissing his forehead.

"Okay, okay."

He looked around for something, anything to cover him up with. He snatched the blanket off the back of a nearby chair, wrapping Kurt from knee to neck. Kurt sighed, whimpering a little, relieved. Blaine carefully picked him up, cradling him close to his chest. Kurt sobbed into his neck, shaking from head to toe. His thighs jerked and twitched on their own, still recovering from the previous trauma.

"I've got you. I've got you, baby," Blaine soothed. He peeked out the door, meeting Liz's eyes when he did.

She looked between hi eyes and Kurt's face, realizing the severity of what had happened to her friend. "Oh, God…Kurt."

"Can," Blaine began, his voice breaking. He swallowed. "Can you make sure no one sees him?" He asked desperately.

"Of course," she nodded, wanting to reach out and touch Kurt. She knew it would only scare him more and stopped herself.

"I-I just want…I don't want this public. He's…he's been humiliated enough," he managed.

"I know," she nodded. "It's okay. I'll do it."

Kurt couldn't hear anything they were saying. He was lost in Blaine's shoulder, whimpering incoherent prayers that we could really forgive him, that he could still love him. He felt dirty and unworthy to be in his arms. Disgusting people weren't kissed by pure ones. He didn't deserve Blaine's touch or his kind words. He was an adulterer, a cheater, a disgusting excuse for a person and husband. He cried harder.

"Shh, hey, hey," Blaine cooed. "I know it hurts, darling, but you have to try to be quiet, okay?"

"Oh-okay."

Blaine carried him down each hall toward the dressing room, never taking a step without Liz's all-clear.

It seemed to take a millennia. The same thoughts continually ran through Blaine's head as he held his wounded love. _Clothes, hospital, clothes, hospital, clothes, hospital…_

"Okay, Kurt, I'm gonna put you down for a second, okay?" He whispered. The other boy nodded slowly, wincing and hissing in pain as Blaine put him on the couch. He stroked his cheek once before going to his closet. He grabbed the first set of clothes he found, rushing back over to him.

"Shh…" He soothed, holding his face again. "Alright, I'm gonna get you dressed now. Is that okay?"

Kurt nodded, so thankful he'd asked permission instead of just doing it. "It's okay."

Slowly, he peeled the blanket away. His heart stopped, throat dry. He hadn't really looked at Kurt's body when he first walked in. He'd seen the scrapes and bruises, but not up close. He saw the severity of them now, and he knew there was still more that Kurt had covered with makeup. He shook his head, his stomach churning just thinking about it.

"Blaine?" Kurt said softly, cries finally subdued enough to where he could speak coherently. "Do…do you still l-love me?" Blaine's heart was torn again. He looked at him, tears in his eyes.

"Kurt, darling, of course I do," he said, holding his hand. "I…God, Kurt, I love you _so_ much. That's why I got so angry. When I-" He stopped, realizing what he'd done. "Oh, Kurt, no…" He touched his cheeks, right where he'd hit him. A few tears escaped his eyes. "Oh god, I ….Kurt, I _hit_ you. Twice…oh, Kurt, baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did to you! I didn't mean…Oh, baby." He hugged him tight, kissing his neck. Kurt flinched a little, feeling too filthy for him to touch.

"Blaine, it…it's okay," he whispered, hugging him back, crying again. "I would've hit me too."

Blaine looked at him steadily for another moment, leaning to kiss him.

"No!" Kurt squealed, jerking away, bawling again. "No, Blaine, pl-please. I-I'm not- you-" He broke down in tears, now incoherent.

The dark-haired boy held him for a long moment, wishing he could will all of this away; all the pain and agonizing memories that would plague him for the rest of his life. "Shh, hush, angel. Shh…It's okay."

"I'm s-so sorry."

"Shh…"

He pulled a shirt over his head as gently as he could. Kurt sighed, finally dressed, shielded from the rest of the world again. Blaine tried to smile, running his fingers through his hair.

"Alright," he breathed. "I'm gonna take you to the hospital now, okay?"

"Blaine," he whimpered, shaking his head and begging. "No, no, don't make me go. Th-they'll make me file a police report. They'll t-take pic-pictures-" He choked on tears.

"Kurt, baby," he soothed. "We can't just let him get away with what he did to you. I…I can't know that he's walking around out there and…Kurt, if he doesn't go to jail for this I'll kill him. I swear to God I will. After knowing what he _did_ to you, I…" The tears were there again. "Please, baby, don't let him get away with hurting you."

Kurt looked at him, shaking at the idea of someone touching him. The whole reason he'd done what Roland had asked was for Blaine. If he didn't tell the police what Roland had done his career would be ruined, he might even…

He started out doing this for Blaine, and he was gonna finish it that way too.

"Will you stay with me?" He trembled. Blaine held his face again.

"Of course I will."

"W-we have to keep this a secret," he breathed. "I-if this got out, I…"

"We will. I promise," He swore. Kurt swallowed hard.

"Okay. I-I'll do it."

* * *

><p>Liz called ahead to the hospital, explaining the importance and gravity of the situation while Blaine drove Kurt to the hospital.<p>

The wounded boy spent the car ride curled against Blaine's side, clutching his shirt and crying silently. Blaine parked as close to the emergency room as he could, sighing when he parked. He looked at his husband, carefully tugging the hood up on his sweater. He held his face.

"It's gonna be okay, darling," he assured. "I promise it will be." Kurt nodded.

"I trust you."

A doctor corralled him as soon as he entered the building, being shuffled down the hall to a private room. He held onto Blaine's hand as tightly as he could, refusing to let up for a second.

"Excuse me, sir," a nurse said, stepping in front of Blaine, causing the whole group to stop. "You can't-"

"IF you don't let me go with him then I'll find a hospital that will. I'll keep my mouth shut and let you guys do your jobs but I'm not leaving him. You'd have to kill me first." he said firmly.

"It's alright, Karen," the doctor assured. "It's fine. I gotta get him out of here."

Blaine pushed past her, giving Kurt's hand a squeeze as he did.

Kurt closed his eyes as he entered the cool, white room, shaking already.

_God, why can't this hell be over?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Come What May**

"Mr. Anderson, could you put this on for me?" The doctor asked politely, holding a gown out to Kurt. He sniffed a little, taking it with shaking hands.

"Can, can I…" he began, searching for the words. The doctor nodded, understanding. He stepped back, closing the curtain around him and Blaine, leaving the two alone inside it.

Kurt stared at the paper-thin gown, his lower lip shaking. "A-aren't there," he swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. "Aren't there pants th-that I…?"

Blaine gently took him in his arms, holding the back of his head. "Shh…it'll be alright. Just a little while longer."

"I don't want them t-to touch me," he shivered. "I-I just want you."

"I know, I know," he whispered, his heart throbbing. He kissed his cheek. "C'mon, baby, I'll help you."

"Okay."

He gently pulled the sweater over his head, easing him out of the rest of his clothes with careful, soft hands. "Shh, I've got you, I've got you."

Kurt tugged the gown over his shoulders before taking off the sweats Blaine had put on him. He shivered, now feeling exposed and naked once again. He sat on the bed, shivering. Blaine took the quilt from the chair behind him and draped it around his shoulders, knowing he wouldn't be allowed to wear it for very long. He stroked his cheek, wanting to hold him and kiss him and never let go. But no. Not now. Not yet.

He pulled the curtain back around, allowing the doctor to come back.

He asked Kurt to uncover all of his injuries, and Blaine wondered whether or not he'd have to puke.

Bruises, ligature marks on his neck, violent bite marks, scratches from nails. That's what he'd had covered. Anger burned and boiled in his stomach, making him even more murderous than he was already. That son of a bitch did this to his baby, to his angel. Kurt was staring at his lap, hands clasped tight and shaking. He'd made him like this; he'd taken away that smile. He'd stolen part of his husband away.

"This is everything," Kurt said softly, handing back the makeup covered washcloth. Blaine took his hand to assure him.

"Alright, let me look at you, Mr. Anderson," the doctor said. Reluctantly, Blaine let go as the doctor examined him.

That was the first in a long line of people that poked and prodded at him, making him whimper and cry. Kurt never took his eyes away from his husband, no matter how hard he was crying.

"It's okay, it's alright, Kurt," Blaine said softly, holding his hand whenever he could. Kurt winced as the camera went off again.

"Blaine," he breathed.

"Shh, I'm here. I'm right here. It's alright. Shh…" It was killing him to stand on the sidelines, watching Kurt cry and shake while these people touched and probed him.

It took hours for them to get every angle of every bruise, to collect any and all DNA from him, and to recount his story at least three times before they _finally_ left him alone.

He collapsed on the bed when they did, sobbing into his hands. It was like he'd been raped all over again. He curled into the tightest ball he could, trembling from head to toe. Blaine scooped him into his arms, lifting his whole body into his chest. Kurt held onto him, sobbing into his neck.

"I want to go home!" He wailed, voice quivering. "I don't want to be here anymore, Blaine. I want to go home! I want to take a shower; I want to go to sleep! Please…"

"Okay, okay, Kurt," Blaine nodded, gulping through his own tears. "It's alright. I'll take you home in just a minute, okay? And you can shower and sleep as much as you want, alright?"

He nodded, his tears nothing but relief now. "I l-love you, Blaine," he choked. Blaine shut his eyes, unable to hold his tears back any longer.

"I love you too, Kurt."

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't want to be alone. The silence scared him almost as much as others' hands. But asking Blaine to come into the shower with him was hard. This meant he'd see everything that Roland had done to him with nowhere to hide. He wasn't afraid of Blaine, no, but he was afraid that he wouldn't…wouldn't want him anymore.<p>

"Kurt, I don't have to come in with you," Blaine assured. "I just offered," he tried to smile a little. "You haven't really let me go since we left the hospital."

"I'm sorry," Kurt trembled, stepping away from him. "I-I didn't mean-"

"Hey," Blaine hugged him tight. "I'm just trying to make you smile, baby. Do you want me to take a shower with you or do you want me to wait in the living room?"

"Come with me."

Kurt gasped as the water ran over him, warming him, washing away the disgusting filth he'd felt on him for what seemed like years.

Blaine looked at his husband with tearful disbelief. The bruises on his hips were almost black, his back decorated in scratches and bites. There were bruises on his ribs from being kicked and the end of the bruises on his neck from being choked. What hurt him to see the most were the welts crisscrossing on his buttocks. _That son of a bitch!_ "Oh, Kurt," he breathed. He looked over his shoulder at him, wide, innocent eyes blinking slowly. "God, baby, come here."

He shivered and shuddered against him. Blaine rocked him slowly, kissing his temple. He very slowly and very, very gently slid his hand down his back and cupped his cheek. Kurt gasped, shutting his eyes. "Kurt, what did he do to you?" Kurt shut his eyes, whimpering softly.

"He-he made me bend over," he began. "He said if I made any noise he'd j-just keep hitting me. And-and I couldn't help it. He just, he just kept hitting me until the skin w-was raw." His knees buckled, leaving Blaine to support him. He held him tight, kissing his cheeks, knowing better than to try his lips.

"Shh, hush," he was crying himself. "Shh…It's okay, baby. It's alright. I'm here. I've got you."

He made sure Kurt didn't scrub his skin off or try to hurt himself, tentatively touching him when necessary, asking permission to help any other time.

Kurt felt better, but not totally clean. He wasn't sure if he'd ever feel that way again. Blaine draped his robe around him, lifting him up into his arms in one swift movement.

Blaine gently set him on the bed, tucking the covers around him.

"Okay, darling," Blaine said softly. "Do you want me to sleep here with you or somewhere else?" The last thing he wanted was to be near or around Kurt when he didn't want him to be.

Kurt reached up, wrapping his arms around his neck, hugging tight. "Don't go," he begged. "All I wanted when he was hurting me was you. I screamed your name ev-every time. All I want is you."

Blaine held him, crying into his hair, sobs still locked away. "I'm here, Kurt. I'm right here for you. I won't let you go, I promise."

He laid beside him, holding him tight. He stroked his face and his hair, watching his eyes, waiting for them to droop, or at least be void of tears.

"It's alright, baby. Go to sleep. It'll be better in the morning, okay?" He whispered. Kurt looked around anxiously, sniffling. "I'll be right here all night, Kurt. I'm not gonna leave you, alright?" He nodded.

"B-Blaine," he began shakily. "Do you still think I'm…?"

It took a moment for the dark-haired man to understand what he meant. A fresh wave of sobs crashed over him, clogging his throat. "Kurt, baby." He pressed his forehead to Kurt's, almost his entire face against his, hand cradling his cheek. "You are, and will always be beautiful to me. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and you will be for the rest of my life. I promise you that."

Kurt was lost in a fit of tears again, his face in Blaine's chest. He felt so ugly and so dirty. The memories of what had been done to him wouldn't leave his mind. Flashes of the pain washed over him as Blaine gently rubbed his back and his arms in attempt to soothe him.

Blaine knew Kurt would most likely cry all night, or at least until he'd cried so much that he didn't have the strength to stay awake anymore. And he would hold him, shush him, caress him, soothe him in any way he knew how.

This wasn't going to be the hardest part. The first night never was. The second night, when the nightmares start to ravage his mind and deprive him of sleep that he so desperately needed, that would be the hardest.

He carefully lifted his chin. "Kurt, can I kiss you?" He asked softly. A small nod. He whimpered a little when Blaine met his lips. It was soft, chaste and so gentle. Blaine held him when they broke apart. "Sleep, baby. Just go to sleep. I'm right here if you need me."

Kurt nuzzled his face in Blaine's chest, curling against him to be completely surrounded by him. Maybe that would keep Roland's face out of his mind.

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"Mr. Hummel?"

"Blaine, I told you, you don't have to call me that anymore."

"Right, sorry, um…I, God, I don't know what to do…"

"What is it? Is there something wrong with Kurt? Is he alright? Did-?"

"Mr. -uh, Burt, please, let me explain…"

* * *

><p><em>Two Days Later…<em>

Kurt sat on the couch, knees in his chest, staring at the T.V. but not watching. He took a deep breath, trying to breathe through tears he felt coming.

_God damn it, stop crying. Why the hell are you crying? There's nothing to cry about, damn it!_

He jumped as the couch moved, feeling even more worthless than before. _God, someone's just sitting down, you puss!_

"Kurt."

His head snapped up at the voice, eyes filling to the brim with tears. "Dad?" Burt wrapped his arms around his son, hugging him tight. Kurt squeezed back, sobbing.

"I'm here, Kurt. I'm here. It's okay, buddy."

"Daddy…"

Blaine stood in the doorway, smiling a little. He could only help him so much, and there were certain things that only a parent could do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Come What May**

Kurt cried hard into his father's chest, trembling all over. "Daddy…"

"Shh, I'm here. It's okay, Kurt. It's alright, I'm right here. I've got you," he said softly, rocking him.

Burt had needed a day to calm down before he came up here. He'd never been so angry in his life. He'd never wanted to kill someone like this before. He'd been protective of Kurt since the day he was born, and it had only been heightened when he'd lost Elizabeth. He'd been angry for Kurt before, whether it be for a bully or someone denying him an opportunity he deserved.

But never like this.

He took a day so that anger would go away when he saw his son. He took that day so he would be able to hold and console him and not think about what he was going to do to the man that hurt him.

The father's heart twisted when Kurt looked up at him. God, he looked like his mother. His eyes were swollen and filled to the brim with tears.

"What did Blaine tell you?" He choked.

"He told me everything, son."

Kurt was bawling again, shaking his head.

"No, no, no…" He moaned.

"Shh…Kurt, it's alright."

He cried for a long time, curled against him, loathing himself. Why did Dad have to know? Why did this shame have to keep coming back? Burt rubbed his back, like he did when he was little, telling him over and over that it was alright, that everything would be okay.

Kurt pushed away, wiping his nose and standing. Burt frowned, confused as he walked away.

"Kurt?"

He stormed into the bedroom, finding Blaine on the couch reading a book. "Why did you tell him?" He asked brokenly.

Blaine looked at him, shutting his book and going to him immediately. "What?"

"You told him. You told my dad what he did! Why?" He was crying.

"Kurt," Blaine moved to take him in his arms, but stopped himself. That wasn't what he wanted right now. "I told him because he wanted to know what he did. He wanted to make sure you were alright. He wanted-"

"He didn't need to know!" He snapped. "He…oh, God, this…you don't know what this did to him!"

"Hey, hey," Blaine soothed, touching his cheek. "Shh…shh…It's alright. Everything's going to be okay." Kurt collapsed against his husband, allowing him to hold him. There tears in Blaine's eyes as he held him, trying to soothe his wounded husband. "Kurt, I'm so sorry, I…I just didn't know what to do. I thought that maybe your dad would be able to help you better than I could. I want you to stop crying."

Kurt looked at him, understanding how much this hurt Blaine too. "I'm sorry I upset you," Blaine continued swallowing his tears and keeping them from his eyes.

"It's alright. You're helping me. I…I don't know what to do either, Blaine," he whispered. He swallowed, looking back at the door. "I'm gonna go back out there," he nodded. "I haven't seen him in awhile."

"Okay," Blaine nodded, still smiling a little, willing to let Kurt do anything that might make him feel better. He gently kissed his cheek, noting Kurt's flinch. The pale boy smiled anyway and went back into the living room.

Blaine went into the bathroom, carefully shutting the door behind him before collapsing to his knees. He buried his face in his hands, and sobbed.

* * *

><p>"I don't know what to do," Blaine confessed tearfully. "I don't know what I can do to help him get past this. I don't know what to say, or how to help him, or… Burt, what do I do?"<p>

The older man didn't have all the answers. He didn't know how to really help a rape victim, he didn't know what exact criminal charges to file or anything like that. But he did know what his son needed when he was hurt.

"Blaine, all you have to do is be there. Just be there for him. Hold him if he wants you to, leave him alone if he asks you to. All he needs to know is that you're there if he needs you. Don't worry about saying the right thing, as long as you're saying it, it doesn't matter. He wants to hear your voice, he wants you to be there when he wakes up in the middle of the night scared. Just be there."

Blaine stared at him for a moment before looking at Kurt, who was sound asleep in their bed, eyes still swollen from previous tears.

"Just be there?" He breathed. Burt nodded.

"I didn't know what to do when his mom died," he said truthfully. "So I asked him," he chuckled softly. "He just looked at me and said, 'Just don't go with her, Daddy.'"

Another wave of tears crashed over him that he swallowed. "Okay, okay, I'll try. I'll do whatever I can."

There was a pause before Burt spoke again. "How's the play going?"

"Good," Blaine nodded, laughing a little. He'd forgotten all about that. "It's good. We open next week."

"And the son of a bitch that touched my son, he's in jail right now, right?"

Once again, Blaine nodded. "Yeah, they arrested him the night I took Kurt to the hospital. I called my friend Thad yesterday; he's a lawyer. He's gonna handle Kurt's case."

"Does he think you'll win?"

"He thinks there's a very small chance we'll lose. But he won't really say until he knows more about it. We're meeting with him on Monday," he explained. Burt glanced at his son.

"Does Kurt know about that yet?"

The dark haired boy bowed his head. "I haven't had the chance to tell him. I don't want to hurt him anymore than that bastard already has."

"He wants this to be over with just as much as you do," the older man assured. Blaine sniffed, nodding steadily.

"How long are you staying?" He wondered.

"Just for the weekend, unless he needs me to be here longer," he said. They both looked at Kurt for a moment. "I'm gonna get some sleep. You should too."

"I'll do my best," Blaine assured. He sat on the bed beside his slumbering husband, stroking his hair and rubbing his forehead. "I'm here, Kurt. I'm right here."

* * *

><p>Blaine woke to the sound of Kurt moaning. He looked down at the boy in his arms, who was shaking, fresh tears on his cheeks, whimpers growing louder and louder.<p>

"Blaine…" He moaned, curling further into himself. "Blaine, no, please!"

"Kurt," he said sleepily, shaking his shoulder. "Kurt, wake up, baby."

"Please, no…" He sobbed. "No, let go! DON'T!" He writhed in Blaine's hands, trying desperately to get away. "LET GO! Don't do this, please!"

"Kurt, it's alright, wake up. I'm not hurting you!" He touched his cheek. Kurt screamed.

"NOOOOOOOO!" He jerked out of his grip, rolling off the bed to the hard floor. Blaine jumped up immediately, bending beside him. He lifted his head off the floor, trying to hold him. Kurt was sobbing so hard he was choking, shaking all over, squirming from Blaine's hands, begging. "No, no, BLAINE! Nohoh, stop it!"

"KURT, WAKE UP!"

His eyes snapped open, still crying, still in agony. He searched the room before finding Blaine's face.

"It's okay, it's okay," he assured. "I'm not hurting you, baby, I'm not. It's alright."

Kurt wrapped his arms around his neck, tight, crying into it. "He was doing it to you," he gulped. "He was hurting you. I tried to stop him, but he'd hurt you worse. I tried, Blaine, I really tried."

"Shh…" Blaine felt tears in his own eyes. "I know, I know you did. It's okay. He can't hurt me, and he can't hurt you anymore, alright?" Kurt nodded, still crying into Blaine's neck. "Shh…come here, baby."

Gently, Blaine put his arm under Kurt's legs, holding him close and lifting him off the floor. He carefully set him down, looking up at the doorway at Burt, who looked tired and worried. Blaine nodded to him, signaling that Kurt was alright.

"Shh…I'm here, baby. I'm here. It's okay now. Shh…" He held him all night, kissing him and rocking him, making sure that he knew he would always be there.


	8. Chapter 8

**Come What May**

"Thad, I can't put him through that again," Blaine said, squeezing Kurt's hand. Kurt had his head bowed, sniffling. The defense attorney had thrown those images up in front of everyone, showing the small crowd things that Kurt hadn't even wanted Blaine to see.

Kurt had fainted, overcome by the situation, full of humiliation, anger, terror and the memories of what Roland did to inflict those wounds. He woke to Blaine urging him awake, just as scared as he was. He'd clung to his husband for dear life, tears in his eyes.

The judge had adjourned court until tomorrow morning, warning Roland's attorney beforehand.

Now they were sitting in their apartment, talking over how tomorrow would go.

"I know, Blaine, but in order to prove our case and put any thought of this being a consensual affair out of the judge's mind Kurt has to go on the stand," he explained.

"I can't do that to him!"

"Blaine," Kurt said softly. "I'll do it."

"Kurt-"

"I want everyone to know what he is. I want him to go away for what he did to us," he said. "Thank you, Thad, for helping us."

Thad gently patted her shoulder. "It's no problem, Kurt." He stood, taking his briefcase. "I'll see you both in the morning. We'll go over some of the questions, is that alright?"

"Yes, thank you," Blaine said. Kurt leaned back on the couch when he left, resting his head. Blaine looked at him, touching his hand.

"It'll be over soon," he promised.

"Not soon enough," he said quietly. Blaine leaned his head against Kurt's shoulder, just looking at him. "I just want everything to go back to normal."

* * *

><p>"Kurt, what are you doing?" Rachel asked. Kurt glared at her, buttoning his jacket.<p>

"Going to see my husband perform," he said simply.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said.

"I'm a grown man, Rachel, I don't need a babysitter and I don't need your permission to leave. It's opening night. If I don't show up, Blaine's performance suffers. I've never missed a show of his, and he's never missed one of mine. You don't mess with tradition in this business, Rachel. You know that." He snapped, dabbing cologne on his neck and draping a scarf around his throat.

"But, after court today-"

"I got it out of my system, if you don't recall me crying in my room for two hours." She pursed her lips, wringing her hands.

"Blaine asked me to-"

"I know." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I appreciate that, Rachel, I really do. Thank you for tearing yourself away from your show to help me. But I have to be there for Blaine. I have to be able to put my feelings aside for him. That's what you do for someone you love."

* * *

><p>"How's he doing?" Liz asked, powdering her face.<p>

"He has good days and bad days, but he's getting better," Blaine sighed.

"Is he here tonight?" She asked, looking at him through the mirror.

Blaine fastened his cufflinks, looking sad and wilted. "No. He had a rough day in court today. And the last place he would want to be is here."

She frowned, sighing. "I'm sorry, Blaine."

"Not as sorry as Roland's gonna be."

* * *

><p>Kurt sat down, feeling uneasy in this large crowd. But this was his reserved seat, front row center. No, it wasn't the best seat in the house, but it was right there where Blaine could see him.<p>

He wouldn't see him for a good while, not until Mama told Roxie about Billy, but he'd be sure to be there, smiling brightly when Blaine came on stage.

He looked directly at me when he did, and I watched his eyes light up. He didn't break character other than that, which made Kurt even more proud.

He rushed backstage when the show ended, Blaine sauntering down the hall, high fiving and giving thanks to the cast around him.

He stopped everything when he saw his husband. He rushed him, hugging him as tightly as he could. "You didn't have to come," he whispered.

Kurt hugged him back, smiling softly. "Yes I did." Blaine looked at his husband, gently thumbing his cheek.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked. Kurt nodded. Blaine gave him the first, deep, long kiss he'd had in awhile. Kurt trembled a little, but he loved being this close to Blaine for a change.

"You should do that more often," he whispered. Blaine smiled at him.

"Alright, I'm gonna go change and then we can go home, okay?" He said gently.

"Can I come with you?" He squeaked. "I don't want to be alone out here." Blaine took his hand, eyes tender.

"Of course you can." He led him inside, holding his hand. Kurt looked at the room. A few cards of congratulations decorated the vanity, a few bouquets of girls that were obviously clueless to his existence, and…and a picture from their wedding.

He walked closer to it while Blaine changed. They were running down the aisle, birdseed and bubbles raining around them. They were smiling, holding onto each other, so happy. The scene played in Kurt's memory like a movie, like it was yesterday.

They ducked away from the onslaught, laughing while everyone cheered. Blaine spun him into his arms, kissing him deeply, getting more cheers. They looked at each other, so in love.

"I love you!" Kurt had said. Blaine grinned.

"I love you too." They pressed their foreheads together. "Nothing but happiness from this moment on. Got it?" he smiled.

"I promise."

Kurt shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. He'd broken that promise.

"Kurt?" Blaine said, coming up behind him. Kurt turned, hugging him tightly, teary-eyed. "Shh…what's wrong?"

"We were so happy…"

"Hey, hey," he said softly. "Look at me," he lifted his chin. "We will be happy again. I'm happy now, being here with you."

"I am too, but," He swallowed hard. "But ever since I-"

"You didn't _do_ anything," he assured, kissing his cheek. "This _happened_ to you; there's a difference." He held him, rocking him back and forth. "How about we pick up some Chinese and cuddle up on the couch. There's a 'Grey's Anatomy' marathon on Oxygen," he offered. Kurt sniffed, smiling at him.

"That sounds great."

* * *

><p>"Kurt," Thad began, voice gentle and quiet. "Can you tell me what this injury is from?"<p>

Kurt looked at the picture of his neck, striped with deep brown bruises from Roland's fingers. "Mr. Broussard choked me while he was assaulting me. It wasn't the first time," he muttered. "He, um, he slammed me against the wall. Told me that if I wouldn't be quiet he was going to strangle me. I stopped."

"What about this one?" He asked. Kurt glanced at it and winced. It was a violent purple bruise, on his upper thigh, splotched with broken blood vessels.

Flashes of being thrown in a bathroom stall, ramming against the metal bar before being thrown into tile. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Um, M-Mr. Broussard, um…" He trailed off, swallowing hard. He looked at Blaine, who nodded a little, his eyes alone telling him he was okay. Thad smiled gently.

"It's alright, Kurt, take your time," he said softly.

"_Get over there!"_ Roland's voice in his ear. _"You get the fuck over here and don't you say one _fucking_ word, do you understand?" _

Kurt shivered in his seat, the weight of the silence growing heavier.

"_Take it, take it, you should be fucking used to it by now! TAKE IT! There, that's a good boy. Good boy… See? It doesn't hurt so much, does it? yeah, you like it…" _

Kurt didn't realize he was crying until Blaine stood, his chair scraping across the floor.

"He threw me in the bathroom!" He choked. Thad held out his hand to stop Blaine from rushing forward. "I fell into the bar in the stall and he shoved me against the tile. He made me take off my clothes and-"

"Okay, okay," Thad soothed. "It's alright, it's alright." Kurt took a few deep breaths. "Can you keep going?" He nodded. "Alright, one more."

The picture shown was his fingers, swollen and bruised. Kurt closed his eyes.

On the floor, face beaten from the back of his hand, lip bleeding, crying. Roland grabbed his hair, forcing his head back. _"You say his name one more fucking time and I swear you'll regret it." _

He glared at him, scowling. _"Blaine."_

Kurt opened his eyes. "The last time Mr. Broussard made me…He told me if I said Blaine's name again that I'd regret it. I said it. He kicked my face, I…I couldn't stop him. He…he made me stand up. He walked me over to a cabinet ho-holding my neck. He slammed my fingers in the door," he gulped. He looked at the picture, at his beaten fingers, his wedding ring straining against the swell. He remembered the splint he'd had to wear on that finger for a few weeks. He'd just gotten it off yesterday. He looked at his ring.

"Thank you, Kurt," Thad said. He backed up toward his table. "No more questions, your honor."

"Well, I think I've made my decision," the judge said. Roland's council stood.

"But, your honor!" He interjected.

"I've heard quiet enough out of you, Mr. Reynolds. You've made your point several times and frankly I think it's bullshit. And you can put that in the records, ma'am." He looked down at Kurt. "Young man, I believe every word you're saying and it's taking everything I have not to come down from this bench and beatin' his ass myself. There's no evidence to support your client's claim, Mr. Reynolds and I find him guilty of blackmail, at least four counts of rape…" He skimmed through the files of photos in front of him, counting them. "Eleven counts of assault and battery and one count of assault with a deadly weapon."

"Your honor, that's outrageous-!"

"I said _ENOUGH_, Mr. Reynolds. Mr. Broussard will be sentenced at nine a.m. a week from today." The gavel sounded. Kurt staggered off the stand and fell into Blaine's arms, sobbing as they led Roland away.

"You son of a bitch! You know you wanted it!"

Kurt huddled deeper into Blaine, hiding his face.

"It's over, Kurt, it's over."

"Mr. and Mr. Anderson?" The judge said. They turned. "I suggest you two talk to a therapist. Just to get past all of this without too many scars." They nodded.

"Thank you," Blaine said.

"Here," Thad said, holding out a card. Kurt took it. "She's excellent."

"Thank you," he said. "For everything."

He nodded, patting his shoulder and nodding to Blaine before leaving. Kurt turned back to Blaine's chest, letting him smooth his hair and shush him.

"Shh, it's over, baby. It's over."

-More Klaine TLC next chap!-


	9. Chapter 9

**Come What May**

Kurt sat in silence, glancing up at the therapist. Her name was Dr. Livingston. She was a pretty blonde woman a little older than Kurt, which surprised him.

He'd been sitting on this couch for about ten minutes now, hands folded, silent. "I'm not sure what to do, here," he admitted. She smiled a little.

"It's okay," she said. "Was there anything you wanted to talk about?"

"Not really. Honestly, I'd just like to forget about this whole thing."

Her pleasant smile stayed. "Can I give you some advice about how to do that?" She asked gently. He nodded. "Talk about it." He winced. "I know, I know how it sounds, but trust me, it helps."

"I haven't even told Blaine everything that happened. I've hardly told him anything about it, actually…Let alone a stranger."

"I know, but it might be better to tell someone you don't really know. You haven't told Blaine because you don't want to hurt him, right?" He nodded.

"I don't think you want to know either," he muttered.

"I want to help you, Kurt," she said. "And I really think that you should talk about this to someone."

"What do you want me to say?" He asked, exasperated.

"Just start at the beginning."

The dam that had been holding all of Kurt's memories, thoughts and somehow more tears broke.

He told this woman everything that had been done to him, everything Roland had said, everything he felt, everything he thought and every ounce of guilt that he had.

"…and none of this is fair to Blaine!" He sobbed. "It's not fair! That, that _bastard_ came in and ruined my life, our lives and that's not Blaine's fault! I can't kiss my own husband, he has to _ask_ to touch me and the idea of us making love again terrifies me! And-and…God, it's NOT FAIR!"

She waited a moment before moving. She let his sobs die down, letting him calm himself down. She leaned forward, offering him a tissue. He took it as she patted his shoulder. "Do you feel better?" She asked gently.

He did. He felt like a weight had been taken from his usually lead-lined stomach. He took a deep breath, letting his tears run dry. By comparison, he felt great. "Yes," he said, looking at her. "Yes, I feel much better."

She smiled a little. "See?" He sat back, taking a deep breath to better compose himself. "Now, Kurt, this next step is up to you. _You_ are in control of how this effects you. _You_ get to put this out of your mind and never think about it again. But first, you have to understand that you're only a victim if you feel like one. If you tell yourself that you're not gonna let this keep you from Blaine." He nodded, sniffing.

"I can do that," he whispered. He stood, taking his coat. "Thank you, Dr. Livingston. And, um, feel free to tell Blaine any of that. I don't mind." She nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

><p>"I just don't know what to do," Blaine admitted. "I don't know how to help him."<p>

"Blaine, Kurt is…Kurt's not as fragile as you think he is. He may not seem like it sometimes, but he can."

"He's so strong," he said quietly, closing his eyes. "He so much stronger than I am…"

"Exactly. Which is why he needs nothing more than your face every day. Blaine, you're miserable. You're exhausted. You look like you're going to fall over any second now."

"I'm in the middle of a show," he offered.

"Yes, and you're using whatever energy you have left to make sure Kurt's okay. That Kurt is sleeping well, that Kurt is comfortable, that Kurt isn't scared and that's wonderful. But Kurt is gonna be _just_ fine. He has everything he needs to get better, including you. And what _you_ need to do is start worrying about what _you_ need."

Blaine's head was bowed, hands folded. She put her hand on his knee. "I know how much you want to help him. I know how much you love him, Blaine. It's amazing how loving and caring and passionate about him you are. You will put those you love first no matter what, you always come last. But Blaine, the people who love you, especially Kurt, will be there to help you too. I know it's hard, but you have to try, okay?"

"What do you want me to do?" He asked quietly.

"I want you to stop bottling the emotions you have about this situation. You're keeping them in for Kurt. You feel he's been through enough and you have to be strong for him. Kurt did need that at one point, but now he needs to know that it's still okay to be scared. He needs to know that you're scared too, that you still need to cry about it the same way he does. He needs to know he's not alone."

Blaine closed his eyes. "You think I need to cry?"

"I do," she nodded. "I think you need to, and I think Kurt needs to see it."

"What?" He blanched. "No! No, I can't do that to him. That'll hurt him more than-"

"Blaine, Kurt feels alienated in his feelings. He needs to know that it's still okay to cry about it, that he's not alone in wanting to. And you…you just need to know someone supports you just as much as you support them."

He stared at his hands, breathing slowly. "He told you everything he did, didn't he?" He said softly.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me anything?" He whispered.

"Kurt gave me permission to tell you everything you want to know," she said. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

She told him only what he asked about, only in detail when he pressed further. Blaine swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, when she stopped.

He could practically hear Kurt crying, feel him trembling, naked and cold, sweating and so, so scared.

"That's why he…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

About two weeks ago, Blaine came up behind Kurt in the bathroom, playfully covering his eyes.

"NO!" Kurt had screamed, jerking away from him and into the wall. He's trembled against it, facing away from him. "Don't do that," he squeaked. "Please, Blaine, don't do that again."

He understood now.

"I'll do my best to take your advice, Dr. Livingston," he agreed, standing. "But I really need to see my husband right now."

She smiled. "Thank you for your time. I'll see you next week."

* * *

><p>Kurt looked up when Blaine stepped out, getting up. He wrapped his arms around him, kissing him.<p>

"I love you," he said. Kurt squeezed back.

"I love you too." He took a breath, swallowing. "He can't touch me. He can't touch us, or what we have." Blaine's eyes misted at his words. He kissed him again.

"Let's go home."

* * *

><p>Stark naked, tied spread-eagle to the desk, blindfolded and trembling.<p>

"Please!" An unsteady whimper escaped his throat. "Please, no, don't do this, please. T-take it off!" Hands on the inside of his legs. Another soft whimper.

So humiliated, unable to move from this compromising position. "Bl-Blaine." A violent backhand to his already pinked cheeks. The blindfold was being soaked with tears, and it was only getting wetter as the seconds passed.

"I told you not to say that name!" The monster holding him here growled. He turned away, crying. "You feel more like this, don't you?" He whispered, horrible mouth directly beside his ear, hand touching his most private areas.

"No! Blaine!" Another awful crack across his cheek.

"Fine. You want it that way? I'll make it that way."

"Wait! No!" Touching, pinching, probing. Screaming, crying, shaking. And then the monster penetrated him. "BLAINE!"

He writhed and squirmed but gained nothing, sobbing.

"Say my name," he growled. "_Say it!_"

"No! I want Blaine! I want _BLAINE_!" The monster grabbed Kurt's briefs off the floor, stuffing them in his mouth to keep him quiet. No matter how many times he screamed for his Blaine, no one came.

When Roland was finished he cut the rope free, leaving Kurt to untie himself. Kurt yanked the underwear out of his mouth, sitting up and covering himself. Roland grabbed his shoulders from behind, hissing in his ear. "Blaine can't save you. Stop saying his fucking name. Your job is to let me fuck you without any resistance. You say it again and I'll beat you until you can't move anymore."

"I love my husband," he said harshly. "If you don't like it, then you can go fuck yourself."

He did beat him. He beat him so severely he _couldn't _move. Not for a long time. He spent over an hour covering the bruises that could be seen.

* * *

><p>"Blaine! Blaine, wake up!" Kurt said, shaking his shoulder and holding his cheek. "Wake up, honey!"<p>

"Kurt, no…" He cried. "No, please. Leave him alone!"

"BLAINE!"

He sat up into Kurt's arms, leaning against him, sobbing. "It's okay, it's okay, Blaine. I've got you, shh…"

"I wasn't there for you," he sniffled. "I wasn't there and I…I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry I wasn't there when he did those things to you. God he…he tied you to that desk, and the blindfold, I- Oh, god, Kurt, I'm so sorry!"

"Shh, shh…" He soothed, tears in his own eyes. Blaine was sobbing, hard, for the first time in months, and the first time ever in front of Kurt. "Shh, it's okay, baby. It's alright."

"God, how did I not see it? How didn't I see what he was doing to you?"

"Blaine, you can't do this to yourself. It's not your fault, okay?" They held each other's faces. Blaine kissed him, running his fingers through his hair. "Shh…"

"Kurt, I-"

"Shh, hey, hey, listen to me," he said softly. "Just let it out, baby. Let it out."

Blaine cried, hard, for a long time. He stayed in Kurt's arms, against his chest, and it didn't take long for him to cry with him.

They fell asleep around dawn, holding each other tight, hoping tomorrow might just be a little better.


	10. Chapter 10

**Come What May**

"Kurt!" Blaine called, shutting the door to their flat. "You home, baby?" He paused, looking around.

For starters, the place was spotless. He was sure if he tried he could eat off of the hardwood beneath him. The walls were a different color, and by looking down the hall to some of the other rooms, they were different too.

The furniture had changed too. Different couches and his recliner had been refinished to match them. "Kurt?" He stepped into the bedroom, looking around. The bedspread was new, and he thought the mattress might be too.

"In here!" He called. Blaine peeked into the bathroom and smiled. Kurt was painting away, overalls rolled up to his ankles, barefoot, lavender V-neck tight beneath the denim. He hopped off the toilet seat, beaming.

"What do you think?"

Blaine stared around at the new towels and decorative pictures, the new curtains, and Kurt's face. He knew what he was doing. He was forcing himself to move on, and starting over to do it.

He smiled. "It's wonderful." He kissed his cheek, nuzzling his paint-smeared nose. "You're adorable, by the way." He blushed.

"Thank you." He kissed his cheek again.

"Let me get changed and I'll help, alright?" He said. Kurt grinned.

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Blaine collapsed on the couch, showered, changed and very tired. Kurt plopped down beside him, his hair still wet from his own shower.<p>

"Are you hungry?" He asked, batting his eyes. Blaine smiled, knowing it wasn't on purpose.

"Starved."

"Good," he hopped up, still full of energy, "'cause I've been dying to cook." He handed Blaine the remote, kissing his cheek before walking into the kitchen.

Blaine stared after him, wide-eyed, touching where Kurt's lips had been. He kissed him. _Kurt_ kissed _him_. He couldn't help but grin, relief spreading through him. He was getting better.

* * *

><p>"Blaine, you'll be late!" Kurt called. Blaine rushed down the hall, snatching his keys from the end table and heading out the door. He pulled Kurt into a hug. "Break a leg, baby."<p>

"I will," he smiled.

Kurt kissed him, right on the lips. Blaine's knees buckled at the contact, the air gone from his lungs. He stared at him dreamily when they broke apart, unable to speak. "For luck," Kurt smiled, righting his shirt. "Call me when you're done?"

He nodded, trying to find his voice. "Yeah, yeah, definitely." He stood there for a moment, just looking at him. Kurt blushed a little.

"You're gonna be late, honey." Blaine shook his head.

"Right, sorry. I'll, uh, I'll see you later."

"The cast list gets posted at three today, so if I'm not home when you get here that's where I am."

"Okay. Bye." Blaine left, grinning from ear to ear. Slowly but surely, he was getting his husband back.

* * *

><p>"KURT!" Blaine rushed in the house, throwing his bag and his jacket, rushing into the kitchen. Kurt looked up from the soufflé he was making, yelping in surprise when Blaine lifted him off the ground, spinning him around.<p>

"What?" He exclaimed.

"I got it. I got the nomination, I GOT IT!"

"What!" He grinned.

"I got nominated for best actor in a musical. Your husband got nominated for a TONY!"

They laughed and giggled, squealing with delight as they danced around the kitchen. "This is amazing!" Kurt said. "We have to celebrate. I have to call Rachel. I have to call my dad. No, wait, we need to celebrate first!" Blaine grinned at his enthusiasm. "Let's go somewhere. Anywhere. I don't care, let's just go nuts!"

Blaine smiled, nuzzling his face in his neck. "I think I like it right here." Kurt sighed, resting his cheek against Blaine's. He ducked his head, lifting Blaine's chin and kissing him deeply. Blaine was gasping when he pulled away.

"Blaine," he said softly. "I don't think I'm quite ready for that just yet." Blaine nodded.

"That's fine, that's perfectly okay," he assured. "I'm not pushing."

Kurt smiled, leaning against his cheek. "Let's go dancing."

"Dancing?" Blaine chuckled.

"Or something. I want to get out of the house." He brushed noses with him.

"You got it, babe." Kurt smiled. "Hey, you didn't tell me. Did you get that part?" Kurt grinned.

"You are looking at _Sweeney Todd's_ new 'Tobias.'"

Blaine held him tight, grinning from ear-to-ear. "I don't know which news I'm happier about."

"Well, we should celebrate twice as much," he smirked.

"Fantastic idea."

* * *

><p>Kurt dropped the laundry basket on the floor, going to the dresser. He whistled happily, neatly piling his and Blaine's clothes in the inside.<p>

"Hey, Kurt?" Blaine said, poking his head out of the bathroom. "Can you toss me some shorts?"

Kurt looked up at his half naked and wet husband, smirking a little. He took a pair of boxers from the drawer and stood, holding the waistband on one finger. Blaine looked at him. He knew that playful smile. He knew that glint in his eyes. And he knew that whatever he was about to do, he'd have to work for it.

"Come get 'em," he said softly. Blaine swallowed, adoring where this was going.

He took one step out of the bathroom, towel on his waist before Kurt pressed him against the wall, kissing him deeply and feverishly.

Blaine moaned against the wall, loving every second of this. God, he'd missed him so much. Kurt kissed his neck, holding his arms before letting his fingers trail up and down his chest.

"Kurt, I missed you so much…" He whispered.

"I missed you too…"

His breath hitched in his throat at the feel of his silken lips, wanting to hold him close again.

"It's been too long since we've done this," Kurt growled. Blaine nodded, shutting his eyes, still gripping the towel with white knuckles. Kurt pulled his sweater over his head, surprising Blaine with his lack of undershirt.

"Are you sure?" Blaine whispered, daring to let his fingers brush his collarbone. Kurt nodded.

"I've had ample time to get ready, baby."

He held him close, kissing him deeply, touching him.

They fell on the bed, Blaine's towel forgotten on the floor. Kurt shimmied out of his jeans, holding Blaine's back, sighing at his tentative hands.

"Blaine, I'm your husband, not your cousin. _Touch me_."

The dark-haired man moaned, desperate to put his hands all over him, to touch him and want him and keep him as close as possible.

Kurt felt the ghosts of Roland's hands fade away as Blaine's replaced them once more. He let himself become immersed in Blaine, in his eyes, his smile, his hands, his hair, his voice and his lips.

"Blaine…" He breathed.

"I'm right here, darling. I've got you." He felt safe here, safe and warm where nothing on earth could hurt him. He felt Blaine's fingers curl in his hair, lips on his neck, his fingers linked in his.

"Blaine," he couldn't say anything else.

"Shh…" Blaine missed this. He missed being this close to him. He missed the feel of Kurt's skin, the slow, tender way he touched him, the sheer beauty of his body and the need in his eyes. "I'm right here. Right here, it's alright."

Kurt held him tight, kissing his neck, burying his face in his neck as Blaine moved. This wasn't about sex. This was about connecting with him again, giving himself over to his husband again, showing him that Roland wasn't going to keep him from him again.

Blaine understood that. He was taking Kurt back as gently as he knew how, taking the pain away with every touch, holding Kurt close, keeping his eyes locked with his, keeping him right there with him.

"Blaine, Blaine, don't let go!" He begged.

"I'm here, I'm here," he assured, voice husky. Kurt continued to say his name, desperately clutching his back.

"I love you," Kurt gulped.

"I love you too…Oh, oh, Kurt!"

"_Blaine_!"

Collapsed in each other's arms, gasping, safe, together. They kissed, smiling sleepily at each other.

"Thank you," Kurt breathed. Blaine frowned.

"For what?" Kurt nuzzled his nose against his.

"For being the most beautiful, amazing, kind, loving, Tony award winning husband I could ask for," he whispered. Blaine smiled.

"I love you, Kurt. 'Til the end of time." Kurt chuckled softly.

"Come what may."

* * *

><p>Roland Broussard was slammed against his cell door, the burly man behind him wrenching his arm behind his back.<p>

"Now, here's how this is gonna go," he growled in a deep voice. "You let me do whatever the fuck I want to you or I make your life here a living hell?" Broussard froze, shaking with fear. "Here, let's get to know each other first. Number one thing you should know about me, I'm a _huge_ Kurt Anderson fan. From what I hear you don't like him too much, and that makes me mad, Roland. I'm willing to forgive you, though."

Officer Karofsky smiled to himself as he walked down the hall, whistling brightly over the screams, happy that he could pay Kurt back after all these years.

**END**

**-Thank you all so much! I hope you enjoyed this little ficlet and I hope to hear from you all again soon! Love you and God Bless!-**


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